Like, What's Femslash?
by The Pixess
Summary: [Not what you might think] Gossip had always been her friend, a companion. A lovely sport to get her through the trials of her own life. She'd never expected it to stab her in the back. Much less over something that wasn't even true.
1. The Hurt

**Disclaimer: I don't own it**

**Dedication: For anyone who's ever been betrayed by a friend**

They sat, as they always did, at the main table of the on-campus café. These Saturday luncheons were traditional, a time for tea cakes and cattiness. They had only one rule; no one was immune to their sharp tongues. Not even Galinda, their leader, though admittedly mostly all they ever discussed about her was how whoever was speaking at the time would make Fiyero a much better match, the sexy thing.

But today, people-watching, their were no prime targets about. Filinda wasn't out, no sightings of Biq nor Wheelchair Girl to prompt any vicious monologues on how unflattering stalkers are, not even an awkward ingénue with a distasteful feature (Miss Elphaba, heaven knew, had not graced the café since the first weekend of the term.)

And so the two girls sat, bored, gazing across the nearly bare grounds without hope. Pfannee had given up completely, merely nibbling on one last, _little_ scone before starting the no-carb, but Shenshen's cold blue eyes stayed alert, watchful.

After a moment, a wicked grin lit across her face. Pfannee instinctively followed her gaze; two boys sat at the lake bank, appearing to be in the middle of a quarrel.

"Looks like trouble in _para-dise_!" Shenshen sang.

"Oh, do you think they'll have a fistfight?" Pfannee asked eagerly. "It's been so long since we've seen a proper duel."

"I doubt it- though if they do it might add sexual harassment as well as assault to their records," Shenshen cooed, savoring the scandal.

"Whatever do you mean?" inquired the other girl.

"Careful not to wrinkle you face when you do, darling, but if you squint you'll see that's Tibbett and Crope!"

Pfannee was still puzzled. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"My dear Miss Pfannee, don't you know?!" Shenshen was positively gleeful. "Their _lovers_!"

"What?" Pfannee was sure she'd heard her wrong.

"Their lovers, I tell you! Beau and beau!"

Pfannee blinked. She'd never even heard of such a thing before. "Is that… allowed?" she asked blankly.

Shenshen let out a nasally cackle. "Of course it's not _allowed_, my ignorant little bumpkin, it's _disgusting_! Not to mention a waste, I mean-" she glanced back toward the pair "-the one is almost cuter than Fiyero."

It was too much to digest at once. "But...why?"

"My Oz, don't you see the way his hair moves in the wind? Fiyero's never does that, it's too heavily gelled-"

"No, I mean-" Pfannee lowered her voice uncertainly. She hated being out of the loop about things. "Why is it so disgusting?"

Shenshen stared at her for a good thirty seconds without speaking, a new record for her. "Lurline preserve us, Miss Pfannee!" she cried, incredulous to the core. "I-it's unnatural! It's unsightly! I-I- Oz, I can't believe I actually have to explain this! Honestly, Miss Pfannee! Imagine if you tried to kiss _me_! Wouldn't _that_ be gross?"

Unlike most girls in her social set, Miss Pfannee did not speak quickly. When she was young, she had had a lisp, and she always checked herself before speaking in order to avoid an embarrassing slip and be labeled a retard. Though, she was rather slow at times with absorbing information, particularly shocking information at that.

This is why she hesitated. If only for a moment, but for a girl as fast-paced as Miss Shenshen of Gallantry Grove, it was enough to signify silence as an answer.

"Oh…my…Oz…" she drawled, looking horrorstruck.

"_What_?" Pfannee demanded. Then it hit her. "Oh, _Oz, _Shenshen, I didn't-"

"You hag," Shenshen spat, gathering up her things, "You disgusting, sick little _hag_!"

"No- but-_Shen_!" Pfannee cried, using the nickname that, months before, Shenshen had declared that only she, her mother, and other close friends could use.

"Don't you dare give me a pet name, you scheming little shrew," she hissed, kicking her chair over as she grabbed for her reticule. She writhed as Pfannee made to grab her elbow, holding her in place. "Don't touch me, you lesbo!"

Pfannee didn't know what the name meant but it cut her like a knife. She was stunned, frozen as Shenshen gave her one last death look and then promptly rushing away, no doubt off to spread the word and make the high-status life Pfannee had built up for herself crash around her diamond-studded ears.

_To be continued…_


	2. The Comfort

**Disclaimer: See, I was **_**going**_** to ask Kill the Preps to write this for me, that way we could all have the Disney fairy tale ending of morbid Shenshen death, but then I realized my Sweeney razors were would get all jealous if I let a DAGGER kill anyone off in my stories (please don't tell them about "No Good Deed"), so we're just going to have to deal with the sad reality of the fact that she lives. For now. **

She clutched her bag tightly to her chest, still feeling the judgmental eyes of others on her even in the empty common room. It had been about a week- well, a school week. Pfannee had never been good at keeping track of that sort of thing. All she knew was, she never wanted to go through it for any length of time, ever _ever_ again. After all, it was costing her more than her social life-though that was a rather substantial blow too. But not only that, she was developing hideous purple BAGS under her eyes, since her roommates didn't trust her enough to sleep in the same room anymore and thus she had to stay on the futon in the common room.

Pfannee took her satin pink pillow out from underneath the crook of her elbow and began fluffing it, hoping that would help ease the stiffness the couch brought on her neck. It was easier, this time of night- only nine, but still. Being alone was one of her few allies during this time- though, ironically, loneliness was her worst weakness. Everywhere she went, raised eyebrows, intense stares- she fluffed the pillow harder- and no one as of yet had even had the guts to _say_ anything about it- other than Shenshen, of course. The girl who was supposed to be her friend had started off her own cliché, presumably because Miss Ellieba (or whatever the freak's name was) had been elected as Pfannee's own replacement and Shenshen wouldn't stand to associate with her. Pfannee couldn't believe Shen had rebelled against Galinda anymore than she could believe the hideous disaster that Saturday afternoon, and felt vaguely as if the world had gone mad.

Galinda herself had not spoken to Pfannee since The Incident (not that she had in the least expected her to in the least), but she did give her sympathetic looks whenever they happened to cross paths and- she might have imagined this- even winked at her once after Shenshen had accidentally set her skirt aflame during Life Science (the shrieking and hysterics following, of course, being the highlight of Miss Pfannee's entire week). Still, Galinda didn't approach her, and Pfannee couldn't find it within herself to blame her.

Ellieba, however, had appeared to scold her for this, even making an attempt to go up to Pfannee herself! Thank Oz she had been standing right next to the doorway when she spotted her- bad enough she stood accused of liking girls, but to flirt with an ARTICOKE?!

She fluffed the pillow so hard at the thought of "artichoke" that the fabric broke, sending swan feathers everywhere and ruining imported silk from Filaan. Cursing (well, the socialites version of cursing, i.e. "Stars above!" ect.), Pfannee gave one of the feathers a kick and gathered up her robe, knowing that the only way she'd be able to get another was from the janitor's closet- located on the east side of the boy's dormitory.

_Greeat._ Maybe they could exchange tips on scoring with the "hotties".

Grudgingly, stopping stalk still every few yards to make sure no one was around to see her (though, admittedly, getting caught sneaking into the boys dorm after dark might debunk her current predicament quite a bit. Still, no one was going to see Pfannee de Pfan of the Eriks walking around in bunny slippers) she made her way to the closet. She stared at it for a moment, wondering anxiously how loud the squeak would be if she turned the kn- oh this was just ridiculous! Why should she let those harpies rule over her like this?! She gave the door a large, audible kick, just to prove her point.

Imagine her surprise when not two tick tocks later it opened.

"Um, can I help you?" its occupant asked, one eye brow raised.

Oh, Oz! She had the wrong room number, oh- blast it all, why did these things always happen to HER?! What was she saying- things like this NEVER happened to her! She was standing in public wearing nothing but a violet camisole and fuchsia robe in front of a boy- a boy who, oh dear sweet _Oz_, seem vaguely familiar to her now that her eyes had adjusted. Probably he was some ex-boyfriend of the week who, goodness knows, would be quite in the mood for some verbal blows, especially at this time of night.

"Miss?" he asked. His voice was polite enough, with a high note on the end that signified slight concern.

"Oh, um," she stammered, "Actually- I, I um- mistook this for the utility closet-"

"I don't blame you, it seems like it's getting more stifling everyday," the boy joked darkly, throwing a look over his shoulder at his (apparently unsatisfactory) dorm. "The real closet's on the left, though."

"Yes, right, thank you," Pfannee babbled, desperate to get out before she was recognized. "Sorry to disturb you-"

"-Tibbett," he supplied.

How it was conceivably possible to stumble over your own feet without even moving (much less in a pair of bunny slippers) Pfannee didn't know, but she certainly managed it. In fact, it was more less a stumble and more like an outright _fall_, which unfortunately sent her tripping into Tibbett's arms.

The curse words she was thinking now were not debutante-esque in the slightest.

"Whoa, easy there-" he blinked as the light from inside the room spilled out across her face, making her recognizable. "Oh, wow," he said, his voice slightly nervous now. "It's _you. _Um, Franny, was it?"

"Pfannee," she supplied, cringing. _Okay, mind over matter. My heart will stop beating- _now. _I get will get some kind of split-second plague-_now. _Oh please, please, just let me _die_ already…_

"Right." He seemed almost as uncomfortable as her- not that that was physically possible. "So, um, were you actually looking for the closet, or like- I mean, if you wanted to- you know- _talk_, or whatever. I mean, if you _need_ to talk, 'cause I totally get that…"

_Please. A lightening bolt. A fire. The entire building crashing down onto my head and leaving nothing behind but my stupid slippers sticking out, please…_

"Well, I- what I mean to say is- I- you see-" she faltered.

"You wanna come in?" he asked tentatively.

She was already half-in anyway, thanks to her stupid feet, and it would be less risky for them to be spotted if they were in an enclosed space- and it seemed unlikely that the trauma of this moment would ever ease enough for her brain form a decent excuse to bolt, so she quickly dashed inside so quickly that she nearly didn't break in time before colliding with a piece of furniture.

_This is not happening,_ she thought panickedly as Tibbett muttered something about getting drinks and left her in the main room. _My Oz, I'm un-chaperoned with a boy- who, admittedly, wouldn't be interested in me anyway, but a BOY!- after dark on a weeknight- Friday's a weeknight still, isn't it?-IN NOTHING BUT MY _UNDERCLOTHING_! I AM _NOT_ THAT GIRL!_

"Who was that, dear?" a new voice asked, and as Pfannee craned her neck she saw the _other_ boy from the lake emerging out of the extending rooms.

"_Her_?" Crope cried incredulously.

"You _live_ together?" Pfannee shrieked in the same instant, jumping to her feet. "Oh that's it, I am so out of here, I don't know _what_ I was thinking-"

"Oh, get your head out of the gutter," Crope snapped at her. "Yes we _live _together, just like you and that homophobe heiress lived together back before she slighted you- _in separate bedrooms_."

"Crope-" Tibbett started sternly.

Crope made a noise of disgust. "Give it a rest, Tibs," he snarled. "The girl is _obviously_ straight, she must have just done something to piss her little posse off, and they labeled her as something apparently _disgusting_ to them to get back at her. So don't worry about giving her your stupid little mentor 'everything's gonna be okay, cuz I'm here for you speech'. Though I wouldn't mind as much as that whole thing with Peter Winters six months ago, seeing as _she_ isn't eligible for the 'We-Were-Just-Experimenting-Honey-It-Didn't-Mean-Anything-When-I-Shoved-My-Tounge-Down-His-Throat' speech." And without another word he turned around stormed back to his room, slamming the door echoingly behind him.

"Um," Pfannee said, because she felt like she had to say _something_. The poor boy looked as though he had been slapped in the face. "What's that thing he called Shenshen? A homophobe?"

Tibbett looked at her with tired eyes. "Oz, you really _are_ straight, aren't you?" he groaned suddenly, covering his face with a hand.

Pfannee nodded. "Yes," she admitted timidly. "But I'd still like to know- if that's okay."

He uncovered his face. "A homophobe," he said slowly, his voice like gravel. "Is the scientific name of a person of a person who hates and or despises those who prefer the company of the same gender in a romantic genre."

Pfannee blinked. "And the non-scientific name?" she asked hesitantly.

"Is not appropriate to say in the presence of a lady." But his eyes- emerald, she noted, almost as bright as the city- were twinkling.

"Right." She flopped down on the coach again, letting her arms slay out widely. "Oz, why does there have to be so many _labels_ for everything?"

Tibbett collapsed next to her. "You, my dear, are asking the wrong person," he said with a humorless snort. "And I doubt you've heard even half of them."

"Really?"

"Sure," he replied easily. "There's _homo_ and dyke- I'm sure you've heard of that one at least once this week-"

"Is it like 'lesbo'?" she inquired. "Shenshen said that one to me."

Tibbett nodded grimly. "Yup, same thing. Though dyke's a bit stronger. It's like the female version of the F-word."

"Frugal?" Pfannee inquired.

He stared at her for at least thirty seconds before throwing his head back and laughing as though she had told him she was planning on dying her hair black, or something.

"Thank you," he said earnestly after he had collected himself somewhat. "I really needed that."

"Um, you're welcome?" Pfannee replied, puzzled but pleased to be of service.

"Anyway," he said, continuing with a smile, "And of course you have the basic labels of gay, straight, and bi-sexual."

"Bi _what_?" she asked, not sure if that one should be mentioned in the presence of a lady either.

"It means you like both," Tibbett elaborated, barely managing to suppress a chuckle; he'd caught on to the tone in her voice.

"You can like _both_?!" This was too much. She grabbed one of the couch cushions and pressed it to her face, frustrated. "Oz, how did I not _know_ all of this?!"

Tibbett patted her hand reassuringly. "It's not exactly something that's out in the open these days," he said soothingly. "Besides, no offense, but your kind of sheltered. It's not your fault, it's just how the upper class is pretty much raised."

"So how does _Shenshen_ know about it? She's of finer blood than I am."

He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "Does she have any siblings?" he asked meaningfully. Although just what the meaning _was_ Pfannee couldn't put her finger on.

She shrugged. "Just the one sister, but she never talks about her. I think there's some scandal out about her that her family's got hushed up, but I don't-" her eyes widened "OH MY OZ!"

Tibbett nodded. "Yup," he said sagely, "That'll about do it."

Pfannee shook her head. "Wow," she said softly, "Just…wow." She looked up at him. "So I know bi-sexual now, but what about-" she hesitated a moment "straight?"

He looked at her funny. "What about it?" he asked perplexedly.

"Well, is it, like, extra bad?" she asked timidly. "I mean, it's what Crope called me, right?"

Tibbett did an odd thing then- he bit his lip, looked up at the ceiling, and appeared to be holding his breath. Almost like his was forcing back an involuntary reaction, or something. Once he got a hold of himself, however, he said simply, "straight means you like the opposite gender."

"So wait, that means gay is when you only like the same thing as yourself?" Pfannee asked blankly. "But gay means happy, too."

Tibbett closed his eyes and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Well, maybe," he said quietly, "one day…we can all be happy. Regardless."


	3. The Romance, Part 1

**Disclaimer: Must…not…type…lyrics…to…"If…You…Were…Gay…"**

_Both: I thought I knew what love was!_

_Clara: I didn't know that love was a complication!_

_Giorgio: I do know that it's not a negotiation…_

_(from Sondheim's _Passion)

The talk with Tibbett had been enlightening- enjoyable, even, at some points. Pfannee wished she could say she wasn't so surprised, but she was. In fact, in all honesty, she thought that he was more charming than most "straight" boys she knew. Perhaps it was the fact that he actually held eye contact with her while having a conversation, instead of- er- chest contact? But no, it was more than that. He really was just- just _nice_, without her having to look physically pretty for him, as was the case with most of her friends.

Former friends, Pfannee corrected herself vehemently, that was the case with her _former_ friends. They were also the reason why she was in such a hurry that morning. As in-depth as her chat with Tibbett got the previous ending, the less Pfannee had wanted to leave. They even, at one point, had gotten to discussing that Peter Winters fellow whom Crope was so vexed about.

"It's kind of a sore point with him," he had explained. "Crope actually had been teasing me for awhile about how cute _he_ thought Peter was, back when he was still in the closet." (Here Tibbett had paused to respond to her query as to why anyone would have a crush on someone who lollygagged in a closet in his spare time) "But then he came out to _me_, and- well, he was really upset, and more than anything confusified, I mean, it's not like you outright just _know_ if your gay- I mean, a part of you does, I guess, but-" he seemed flummoxed for a moment as to how to proceed, but then just shrugged. "_Anyway_, he was confused, and- I'm not gonna lie, Pfan, the guy was _cute_, with like these saucer blue eyes that you could just _drown_ in- but I seriously, _seriously_, he was so upset, and he said he'd tried really hard to figure it out but he didn't think there was any other way, so-" he faltered.

"I um…sortofdidn'tstophimrightaway when he started kissingme."

Pfannee blinked.

"Seriously, it was a total accident!" Tibbett insisted. "He just kind of _grabbed_ me, and I _swear_ it didn't mean anything, he just smooth-talked me into it- and then Crope walked in on us and it was just _horrible_, we've been fighting about it for weeks- even though Peter totally turned out to be straight, I swear it's _so embarrassing_! Honestly, I tried to pull away, I _did_ but-"

"Tibbett," Pfannee interrupted, placing a hand on his. He visibly tensed. "Do you remember those post-Lurlinemas party rumors that went around before New Years?"

"Um," he replied uncomfortably.

"They weren't _all_ rumors," she said calmly. "And, pardon me, but this is hardly the situation for judgment anyway, right?"

Tibbett relaxed. "Right," he said cheerily. Then his face got more serious, and he leaned in slightly. "So…that thing with the lampshade and the Fliaan exchange student? Was _that_ 'not only a rumor', too? Because I heard there was this thing with eggnog and-"

Yes, her chat with Tibbett had been quite pleasurable, so much so that she hadn't wanted to _leave_, consequently making her sleep in once she finally _did _go to bed. Meaning, instead of rising at dawn in order to cover up any evidence of something amiss between her and her roommates, Miss Pfannee now had to contend with the fact that at any moment someone could stroll past on their way to Saturday brunch to find her sheets, blankets, robe, and what was left of her pillows strewn across the common room in various states of disarray.

Surely enough, just as Pfannee managed to kick a ruined pillowcase under the futon (well, it wasn't as if the night janitor actually _cleaned_ about the place) her ears pricked up at a nasally laughing echoing down the corridor.

A _familiar_, nasally voice.

"Oh, my," Shenshen giggled, turning the corner with Miss Milla at her side. The latter's piercing blue eyes ran over Pfannee- still dressed in her tight-fitted nightie- with a look of snide satisfaction while the former commented, "Don't _you_ look _cozy_."

Pfannee was ready for her. "How's Gigi, Shen?" she asked in a voice of venom-coated honey.

Strange- the shocked look of horror and fear that widened across Shenshen's face ought to be utterly satisfying- she had her, she had her and they both knew it. The girl's eyeballs were practically goggling out of her head with panic, and yet- Pfannee felt no pleasure. It occurred to her just then that she was trying to win at Shenshen's game- a game which, maybe, just _maybe_, was now petty for her to play?

But _Oz_, the little hag looked like she was about to shrivel up and die on the spot! How was she not enjoying this?! Ethics, Pfannee realized, were _odd_ things indeed.

"W-what makes that your business?" Shenshen stammered defensively, now somewhat collected. "Filthy little thing, why should I even speak to you? AFTER YOU PRACTICALLY VIOLATED ME LAST WEEK!" She pointed a polished finger accusingly, as though Mila were a police officer asking her to identify her attacker. "How dare you even look at me, how can you stand there, bold as brass, _how_-?"

"-can you project your voice so far that the entire boy's dormitory wakes up at ten a.m.?" a deeply masculine voice cut in. All three girls turned to see Fiyero leaning against the opposite threshold, his hair sleepily drooped over one eye and a cranky set in his jaw. "Not all of us went to bed at a decent hour, you know."

Shenshen flushed, but apparently chose dignity over daintiness, for a moment later she insisted furiously, "I did not just wake up the whole of the male side of campus, Master Tiggular!!!"

Fiyero nodded sagely. "Right," he agreed, moving so that he no longer blocked their view of the archway, revealing- sweet Oz- the corridor of the Y-chromosomed dormitory filled with boys sporting quizzically looks on their faces, in varying states of undress.

"You are right, my dear Miss Shenshen." Fiyero said again, smiling crookedly, "You didn't 'just' wake up the entire male side of campus; looks as though you've gotten a good portion of the females, as well, if you'll look behind you."

Pfannee turned; it wasn't nearly as much as the boys (the other girls were far more used to Shen's dramatics, she supposed) but a few gangly-looking freshers and stuck their heads out of their doors, wearing perplexed expressions. Not only that but- unless Pfannee's sleep deprived eyes were deceiving her- Miss Galinda was also hurrying towards them, a mask of lividness plastered over her perfect face.

"Shenshen!" she shouted (much more people from both sides emerged at this point, a few even tentatively following the blonde inside the main room to see what the ruckus was about) "Honestly, are you _still_ harping on this? This incident that happened, what, a week ago?! Hardly worth talking about at all and you've extended it past its due date. Really, if that's all you've got to gossip about, you're clearly losing your touch."

There were several "oohs" from the gathering crowd, some people going so far as to push for a better look at the potential drama unfolding.

"_I'm _losing _my_ touch?" Shenshen cackled. She gave her tawny curls a "thoughtful" toss. "Because you know, _I_ don't recall that _I_ was the one looking like I was having a seizure at the Ozdust, standing beside that walking pickle!"

Pfannee doubted a soul in Shiz was still in bed now; she peered about anxiously as the two socialites slowly encroached on each other- out of the corner of her eye she saw that Milla looked equally at a loss of what to do, sharing at her two "leaders" with an almost terrified look on her face.

Galinda took another step forward. "Well maybe I _like_ Pickles," she said challengingly.

"Dill's particularly good," the ever-so-helpful Fiyero chimed in casually. Just behind him Pfannee could just make out Tibbett's profile as he tried to weave his way frantically through the crowd whilst everyone else was staring at the Winkie Prince with either shock or annoyance. She somehow managed to catch his- Tibbett's-eye, and he stopped moving, watching her with intent concern.

Shenshen rolled her emerald pupils. "Please," she said scathingly. "I swear, associating with trash from the gutter like that! What are you _thinking_, Galindy?!"

The two girls were nearly brushing noses, eyes blazing into each other in fury (by this time, Pfannee could just make out the sound of Avaric asking for wagers behind the thudding heartbeat in her ears).

"I'm _thinking_," Galinda replied coolly, "That for all your bloodlines, wealth, highly-convincing designer knockoffs- not to mention your _superly swankified_ attitude- the only trash I see here is _you_."

The icy banter shattered into all out warfare; Shenshen made a grab at Galinda, who stumbled but then ducked under the other girl's elbow and dug her perfect manicure into her arm, pulling her towards her. The other students began shouting various catcalls as the girls started yanking at each other's hair, tarring their skirts. Both Pfannee and Milla tried to wretch them apart, but when the latter tried she was merely knocked off balance by the fray and was sent reeling into the crowd, Fiyero only just managing to catch her before she fell backwards to the floor. Pfannee, on the other hand, just managed to wedge her way in between the two before Galinda shoved her backwards on top of Shenshen-

-and her lips.

* * *

**The nicer the reviews, the quicker the updates :)**


	4. The Romance, Part 2

**Disclaimer: "Lies can stand up against much in the world, but not against art. Once lies have been dispelled, the repulsive nakedness of violence will be exposed- and hollow violence will collapse."- Alexander Solzhenitsyn **

Surprisingly, Pfannee was the first to let go- not that it was much her choice. Galinda had pushed her with such force that she only held contact with Shenshen's mouth for a split-second before she toppled to the ground, bringing the other girl with her and all but pining her to the floor (this position no doubt inspiring many a "who's on top" joke from fraternity brothers in the days to come). Really, the brushing of the lips had been so brief that during a time of normalcy it wouldn't even have been notable.

However, when one is- in essence- on trial by peer in the form of the entire student population debating whether or not to ostracize a person for an alleged preference as same-gender intercourse, some things tend to register a tad more than usual.

Tibbett had managed to thrust his way through the crowd in the throws of its shocked silence and helped Pfannee to her feet. She stared dazedly down at Shenshen, who lay on the floor, her many skirts askew around her and her face turning an interesting shade of violet. She was trembling, mouth moving, but in the first time anyone had ever seen at Shiz, she was apparently speechless.

They stayed like that, staring at each other, for what seemed like muted hours before Pfannee finally swallowed and said determinedly, "Shenshen…I really have to tell you…"

The whole of the campus seemed to hold its breath. Shenshen gazed up at her almost fearfully.

"…I don't care what any of your stupid friends say…that lipgloss does not in the LEAST taste like glazed donuts- I'd ask for my money back, were I you." And then she collapsed into laughter.

Shenshen gawked at her, still not bothering to pick herself off the floor. "You-!" she stammered. "You little-! I-!"

But Pfannee was still giggling, so hard now that she clutched onto Tibbett's shoulder for support. He stared at her as though worried for her sanity.

"Um, Pfan?" he asked tentatively. "You okay?"

"Never better," she chortled, grinning.

"Good," he said slowly, "But uh- mind letting me in on the joke?"

"The _joke_?!" she cried, almost wheezing now as she doubled over in hysterics. "O-Oz, Tibbett, I'm standing out in the common room with the w-whole of the school, after I just k-kissed my former b-best friend who s-shunned me and forced me to sleep on a _futon couch_ since she's unfairly prejudiced against a lifestyle I DON'T EVEN TAKE PART IN MYSELF!!" She nearly fell over on the floor again in laughter. "And y-you want a JOKE?! Like sheer reality of our situation i-isn't enough?! THIS IS RIDICULOUS! It's completely HYSTERICAL!"

She gasped for breath, almost tearing up now as she attempted in vain to get a hold of herself. Everyone stared at her, a few people even leaving the scene, shaking their heads incredulously.

"Pfannee," Shenshen said icily, one perfectly plucked eyebrow narrowed, "You. Have. Gone. Mad." She finally stood up. "I thought it was bad enough when I found out you've been secretly pining for me, but _this_ just takes the-"

"OH MY OZ," Pfannee cut in, half exasperated, half amused, "I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU SHENSHEN, I BARELY GIVE YOU MERIT AS A HUMAN BEING."

"Cha, right," she replied sardonically. "That's why you practically force-tackled me to the ground just to get some action."

"Dear Oz, are you serious?" The crowd parted like an Ozian equivalent of the Red Sea as the Green Girl, of all people, strutted towards them with an eye roll. "The girl practically fell on your face, what was she supposed to do, defy gravity?" She turned towards Galinda. "I thought you came out here to shut that harpy up, I'm trying to read."

"Well I'm _so sorry_," Shenshen interjected sarcastically. "Mustn't interrupt Reader's Circle in the cabbage patch, Oz knows you don't pick up a book enough as it is."

"Don't try to drag me into this soap opera, I'm just here for the free food," Greenie replied dryly, and went to stand by the threshold- near Fiyero and away from the center chaos.

"Now then," Shenshen said grumpily, "AS I WAS SAYING, you are positively out of your mind, Pfannee de Pfan, bad enough you have romantic interest in GIRLS-"

"I do not either!" Pfannee protested, not a trace of laughter in her voice now. "Not that it matters to me, because that sort of thing isn't important-" Shenshen bristled "-but I just _don't_!"

"Right," Shenshen replied acidly. "Pity there's no way to prove it. Other than the fact that you just shoved your tongue down my throat."

"The words 'you wish' spring to mind-" Pfannee started, but Tibbett held up a hand to silence her.

"Who says?" he demanded, addressing Shenshen.

She blinked. "I beg your pardon?" she asked, taken aback.

"Of course," he said, giving a polite little bow. "What I mean to ask is, who says there is no way to prove Miss de Pfan's orientation?" He turned towards Pfannee, who was also eyeing him quizzically. "Pfannee," he said clearly, his voice diplomatically casual, but with a hint of something else behind it. "Do you remember what the term 'bisexual' means?"

Pfannee arched her brow. "I don't see how seeing if I'm bisexual or not will help my argument that I am not in love with the Guttersnipe of Gallantry Grove, Master Tibbett."

"Ah, maybe not," he replied easily, as Shenshen tittered behind him, "But perhaps it is not _your_ bisexuality to which I refer."

Then she got it. Pfannee felt her throat go dry as the reality of what he was trying to say ingulfed her. Unbidden, Shenshen's own words popped into her head: _That one is almost cuter than Fiyero…_

"Um," she squeaked, trying to play along in spite of herself, "Why don't you ask Master Crope what it means?"

Tibbett's face darkened, just a little. "I'm afraid I don't think that would be appropriate, anymore," he said affably. "Besides, I should think he's probably too busy searching for a new dorm mate to deal with the trivial questions of his ex." He looked at her intently. "So you never answered me. Do you know what 'bisexual' means?"

"I don't know," Pfannee replied innocently. "Could you perhaps give me a demonstration?"

Hey, she might have been slow. But even she wasn't THAT stupid.

Delicately, he snaked his arm around her waist, pressing her to him. His breath felt hot on her face, in a good way, with a slight whiff of milk from his breakfast tingling in the air. He seemed to deliberate for a moment before pressing his lips to hers, holding them there for a good moment and dipping her slightly before a shrill whistle("Get a hold of yourself, Elphie, honestly, you'd think you'd never seen a liplock!") jolted them back to reality and made them step awkwardly from each other.

"Satisfied?" Pfannee asked smugly.

The look on Shenshen's face was nothing short of one who goes into the bathtub looking for some solace in the form of a bubbly soak and instead finds a spider clogged in the drain. Not waiting for an answer, Pfannee slipped her arm under the crook of Tibbett's elbow and turned to go.

"Wait." To her great surprise, Pfannee felt a familiar, manicured hand tug at her elbow. Shenshen's eyes were pleading. "Pfannee, I…I know I was rather rough on you this week, but it was a misunderstanding and- Oz, I just can't stand to see you ruin your life this way! Is this really what you want? To spend your days- _simpering _over some freak who's swapped saliva with his own gender before?! Honestly, Pfannee- you're better than that."

Pfannee just looked at her. "Miss Shenshen," she said coolly, "Kindly refrain from speaking to me ever again."

"Pfan, _please_," Pfannee couldn't believe this. All it took was knowing that she wasn't actually a homosexual, and Shen acted like they were bosom pals again. "It's not just me, it's-it's-" she faltered, then glanced over her shoulder desperately. "Milla!" she whined. "Back me up here!"

Milla jumped at being addressed; she'd been watching mutely from the sidelines ever since the brawl. The debutante looked at Shenshen, then Pfannee, then back at Shen and took a step forward.

"Alright," she replied calmly, "I will." And she shoved Shenshen away from the other girl forcefully.

"_Milla_!" Shenshen cried reproachfully. "What has gotten _in _to you?!"

" Well you said to 'back you up,'" the raven-haired beauty replied crossly, "And I'll tell you what _hasn't _gotten into me- food, for nearly a half hour. Or even for the past month, since you insisted we all go on that ludicrous no-carb thing. What's the big deal, anyhow? So what he's kissed a guy, we do it all the time."

Shenshen gawked at her. "Because we are _female,_ Miss Milla," she replied tartly. "Really, this isn't like you, resorting to outbursts and mild violence- I must tell you, it's simply not ladylike. And your father would die of shame to hear you talk that way about this business of same-gender couples, don't you know it says in the _Oziad-_"

"That the Unnamed God loves everyone, no matter what?" Milla, the preacher's daughter, finished, firing up at once. "Why yes, I do. I'm rather surprised _you_ remember, seeing as the majority of the time you go to chapel with me I find you in the basement with an alter-boy rather than listening to scripture."

Before someone could even open there mouth for an "ooh" Shenshen had rounded on her, snapping, "Well you know if I came to think on it it almost sounds as if _you_ would be willing to ask out another girl, Milla. I've seen you turn down men other girl's would _kill _for-"

"-In order to get their rank," Milla cut in waspishly. "But none of those girls has actually had to endure the inane excuse for conversation such boys present- they treat you like you _should_ be drooling over them, like _they're_ some kind of god, why-" she broke off, eyes scanning the crowd. They narrowed determinedly once they found their target and, without warning, she strutted over to the boy's side, grabbed a munchkin by the scruff of his collar and kissed him right then and there!

"-Why _Biq's_ a better kisser than half those ingrates!" she declared. "And _he_ treats Galinda like a proper little queen, even when she doesn't give him the time of day! Only she _can't _notice him because it would go against her bloodline and be unladylike. The whole thing is a bunch of _swill_!" Her unprecedented rant finished, Milla spat on the floor for further emphasis.

Shenshen quivered with indignation. "Well at least I'm not about to get my hide kicked by a cripple for making out with her boyfriend!" she snapped, for lack of a better comeback, and without another word stormed off back towards her dormitory.

Everyone in the crowd seemed at a loss as to what to do now, still in a daze from the entire matter.

"Alright, people," Galinda called after a pause. "This whole thing is so four-clock ticks ago. I'm going to get some biscotti at the café- anyone want to join me?"

"Can I put a shirt on first?" Fiyero asked, straightening the baggy sweatpants he wore as pajamas.

"Yes, really," Greenie seconded.

Galinda gave him a peck- on the cheek- but then grabbed Greenie's hand and said, "Come on, darling, we'll wait for Mr. Sleepyhead there." The majority of the others followed suit as they left, clearly wondering in the back of their minds just how friendly that "darling" was. Only a handful lingered.

Milla was one of them. "Boq?" she pressed tentatively, waving a hand over the munchkin's face. He appeared to be off in his own little world, drooling slightly. "Boq?"

"It's Biq," he corrected automatically, still not fully there.

"Rilly?" she asked curiously. "Oh, well- I'm going to go get my shawl real fast- you want to go with the others while you wait for me?"

"Okay," he said with happy blankness, and walked away.

Shaking her head, she turned toward Pfannee and Tibbett, both of whom were grinning at her.

"You were _spectacular, _Millie!" Pfannee gushed.

Milla shrugged. "We do our best," she replied modestly. She took in the two of them. "So you really _do_ only like guys then?" she asked, for verification.

Pfannee nodded. "Just this one," she said, smiling like an idiot and pointing at her new suitor.

"Shame." Milla gave him a brief look of apology and briefly brushed her mouth against the other girl's. "You really are quite cute."

_"Milla!_"

"So totally didn't see that," Tibbett said, smiling crookedly.

"Y-you're a-" Pfannee stammered.

"I didn't really know what it meant, before," she admitted. "Not till Shen started ranting about it all this past week, and- it all just started to make sense."

"Wow," Pfannee shook her head. "The Unnamed God works in mysterious ways, I suppose."

"Yes," Milla agreed. Then she grinned. "But at least He got you a man in the deal."

They all laughed, but then Milla added more seriously, "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Not till your ready," Tibbett said firmly for both of them.

Milla nodded, flushed, and quickly busied past them to get her shawl. She turned on her heel as she got to the threshold of the common room. "Um," she called back uncertainly, "On second thought, maybe you could slip it past Nessarose? Shenshen may be an evil hag, but she is right about one thing: I rather like my nose, I don't want the Thropp girl to-"

"We got it," Tibbett assured her, making no attempt to cover his laughter once Millie had disappeared from sight. He poked Pfannee, who was starting blankly after her. "What?"

She shook her head. "I don't know," she said distantly. "The whole thing is just so…surreal. It almost feels like a dream."

"Really?" His green eyes twinkled mischeviously. "How queer."


End file.
